When You Find Yourself In A Far Away Land
by Rianne
Summary: I had to do it... I had to write a post ep for 'One to Go! So if you're unspoiled and living in a cave... watch out!


**Disclaimer: **For once I am going to be good. Grissom and Sara are not mine. :(

**Author Notes:** Okay – so I had to do this. I had to write about 'One to Go' I'm guessing everyone is going to at some point. I'm just a sucker for the whole romantic ending/camping in the rainforest vibe!! This one is a little sappy and fluffy, admittedly, but if CSI can pull off happy endings so can I!

I didn't get to watch the show till Friday evening here. Which was such torture. I actually had to get up and go to work and wait all day before I got to find out what happened! Don't my work realise that Grissom's last episode should have been a national holiday?!

But may I say BRAVO to TPTB for giving people the ending that we all wanted!

And may I also say, this was a complete one shot; if any of it doesn't make sense I'm sorry!! It was supposed to just be very short and sweet… I should know myself better by now!

And its officially rated M for naughty! Mature is a really inadequate word!

**When You Find Yourself In A Far Away Land.**

By Rianne

His journey was nearly over.

Here he was at the dusk of one life and the dawn of another.

Tremulous thrills powering his exhausted body forwards.

It wasn't too much further.

It couldn't be too much further.

His tired feet plodding on between the two existences, Vegas fading into the background whilst his over stimulated mind tried to absorb all that this new place had to offer.

His weary body oblivious to the excitement in his heart and his head.

The adventure had been long, the on foot trek had been several hours if not more, his watch had not reacted well to the short burst of rainfall which had swamped him earlier, but the closer his expedition came to its fruition the more it seemed quite suddenly that it was not long enough. Not enough time to process and prepare himself for the crucial moment which hovered on the horizon.

Seeing her again.

It was the only thing that had been keeping him going for so long now that he wasn't sure he could withstand the actual event.

It had played out so many times in his head, with some many different outcomes.

He wanted it to be all of them and then some. Wanted it to be the opening chapter for his new life.

Wanted it to be something for them both to remember for the rest of their lives.

Anxious he drew a sleek black gadget from his pocket, a GPS receiver. He squinted up as he held it aloft.

His beating blue circle was just feet from the little red flag which designated his future.

He was so tired, so hot, so… so… excited.

But terrified.

His heart was working double time to fight against the heat and the worries and the nervous anticipation.

Thousands of miles away this had felt just right, felt like fate, felt like his true destiny, but here, right now…

This was something that he wanted so very badly.

But he wanted there to be someone to push him forward.

To make him take those extra few steps.

All those years in which he had taken the time to nurture, to encourage, to explain, to help others grow.

But here he was alone.

The GPS his only guide through the unknown of the path of his future.

Around him the insect life, the flora and fauna, it all hummed with the thrills, which ebbed and waved through him.

It was exciting, nerve wracking.

It was new.

It was what he knew he wanted, it was what he could not be afraid of reaching out and grasping with both hands.

He had always wanted to go back to the rainforest.

But it was hot, so very hot.

He'd expected heat.

He was used to heat.

But this was something different.

Moisture.

It steamed from his clothes.

It coated his skin, beads collecting, sliding, racing down his chest and his spine.

Hot air filled the inside of his lungs, clinging, stifling.

It made his chest heavy and full.

Over the span of the thirty-something-odd years since he last set foot in the rainforest he had somehow managed to forget the oppressive power of tropical forest heat.

But his body would adjust.

He doubted he would ever long for the dry, vapourless heat of the Vegas sun.

It had sucked the humanity from him for far too long.

He took a moment to rest, to collect his thoughts, sucking warm water from a canteen in his rucksack before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, then returning it to his bag.

What was he worrying about, either way it was too late now to turn back.

With one more glance up at his fancy far too technically advanced for the rainforest gadget he realised that he didn't even need the GPS anymore.

What he wanted lay just beyond the veiling curtains of leaves.

He slid the trusty black machine into his pocket, adjusted his rucksack from painfully uncomfortable to mildly uncomfortable and began again with slow steps.

His boots heavy, his feet raw.

Yet the path was becoming easier.

Deliberate winding ways were appearing between the fronds, well trampled by feet, and soon to be familiar.

Beside the path a creature on a long dipping leaf caught the briefest shred of his interest.

But that was not what he was here for and that thought managed to quicken his steps once more.

His body finding the last pool of strength from some remotely located store within him.

Foliage around him was stroking smears of liquid and sap across his arms and legs as he began making more ground, meandering through the pathways of least resistance.

It was time for him to look out for himself now.

Time to do things for himself, in the smaller ways he no longer had to fight every battle.

He could sit back and take a simpler life, an easier route, a moment for himself.

There was no one left needing, or expecting for him to lead any more.

That was more of a relief than he had ever expected.

He could be friend, colleague, source of information, distant memory reflected upon and smiled about.

He had fought long enough both for and against the wishes and thoughts of others.

Now was his time.

Then his feet were slowing as he caught sight of the first stirrings of civilization in the lush undergrowth.

The plants and shrubbery and tall grasses parting, unfurling, to reveal a natural clearing.

Then he slowed to a stop, no longer in control of anything, his mouth falling open as his brain managed to function well enough to draw breath but nothing more.

He was standing in an entomologist's dream world and he only had eyes for her.

The sounds of the earth around him faded out.

No more crickets chirped, or leaves rustled.

He could hear his heart, hear it sing for her.

Hear his own breathing.

Sara.

She was close enough to stumble the last few steps, to reach out and touch her for the first time in months.

His heart strained for her.

She was right there.

Standing before the camp, her back to him.

He couldn't speak.

He was just staring.

Wondering how he would ever begin to explain.

Suddenly seeing her had made this real.

This was really happening.

He had changed his life for this.

He had all the time in the world to explain everything and anything else she could ever desire to know.

He had given up his job, given up his friends, their home was packed into storage, their beloved dog was making friends with Greg's next-door neighbours cats.

And it was the perfect time.

The world was falling into place.

Making the decision had been the hard part.

He had so wanted to make it when she had, but he hadn't been ready then.

Too many loose ends, which had taken time, but now he could say he had finally knotted.

It had been so clear and precise to arrange after that, so easy to instigate.

An awkward resignation speech, a few signatures, a lot of research, emails exchanged with strangers so often that he felt he knew them, a whole lot of packing, some clever ducking out of goodbyes and some wonderful moments he would treasure forever when he had been ambushed by words from Nick, from Greg, from Dave, Al, Jim, even from Hodges.

And Catherine.

She had given him the best leaving present he could have wished for.

She had allowed him to quietly slip away.

No cake in the break room.

No fuss.

He had earned that.

Then he'd been on his way. Too busy to be awed at his actions, too many people asking for travel permits and if he wanted this or that, for his mind to stop and think about the consequences.

Bag packed, other luggage to follow.

A long, long flight, a lot of airports and protocols and checking of his passport and documents.

Followed by an awfully long, somewhat torturous, ride in a very old truck down barely there roads, which had on more that one occasion made him question whether he would be young enough for all of this, and whether or not he would make it to his destination alive.

But his fight against the chaos of this part of the journey had given him time, had forced him to retreat into his thoughts.

Into the one thought which had not left his mind since he had set the whole business in motion.

Whether she would want him.

Would she really want to see him?

Or would he be butting into a new life she had made for herself?

A life without him.

A life where there was no room for him.

She had told him she was happy.

She had told him their being apart, it was better that way.

Had parroted back to him the single sentence that had cut him deep, like a razor thin blade, the moment the words had left his mouth.

He had wanted to free her.

Had wanted to never see her hurt, or captured, or in pain again.

Around him back in Vegas that was all she got. He damaged her. He polluted the air she breathed.

It didn't matter that all he had ever wanted to do was to protect her, to love her, to keep her safe.

Had wanted nothing more than to set the butterfly free.

And she had gone.

Wounded once more, another battle scar to her already weakened armour.

Defeated.

She had gone.

But the guilt hadn't.

The loss hadn't.

His love for her hadn't.

Could she really be happy without him?

There had been something in her eyes, which had pleaded for his attention when she had said that. The way she had mirrored his words back to him was enough. But there had been more. Something so powerful, something so vulnerable that it had still been strong across the faint twists and distortions of the staticy video clip.

He wasn't happy.

He didn't think she was completely happy either.

She was working on it though, she was certainly happier than he had seen her in recent years.

The excitement, the intellectual passion had returned to her voice.

He had forgotten what it had sounded like to hear her truly excited about a discovery, not sarcastic and tired and worn down and immune.

He wanted her to be happy.

He wanted to be happy too.

He wanted to be with her.

He had made several people swear, several promise, had bribed a few others.

She didn't know.

She had no idea he was coming.

She hadn't known until right now.

She was turning.

Sensing his presence before he had been able to break the spell just the sight of her again had cast over him.

His heart was slamming against his chest.

Had she always been this beautiful?

He must have been blind until right now.

The sunlight bounced off the coil of her curls, highlighting the velvety copper.

Her big eyes were glittering.

Her soft mouth was open just slightly.

Her mind was trying to process and drawing a huge blank.

Her forehead had creased just a little betraying the chaos of her emotions.

How many times had he watched her as she worked?

Worked out the puzzles of the world, of the criminal mind, of his own well shuttered psyche.

How many times had he found himself lost in the spell of her?

Fascinated by her powers of concentration?

Guilt-ridden over the most recent way he'd hurt her?

Or sly with the memory of her hot and tangled in his arms, his name gasping from her lips, sliding tauntingly through the divide he had erected between work and play?

Countless times.

Sara.

When he had found her in his office just hours after Warrick's murder he had never in his life been more overwhelmed at the sight of anything.

Until now.

The camera she had been using was swinging limply from her hand forgotten.

The only movement.

The entire jungle had fallen still to watch their reunion with held breath.

She was just blinking at him dazedly, like she thought he might be a dream.

A tired, sweaty, dirt streaked mirage.

It wouldn't be the first time since she had arrived at this camp, and her previous ones, that she had lain in her tiny, lumpy camp bed, or on the floor on a rollaway mat and fantasised about him appearing just like this from the undergrowth.

Her heart longing and lonely.

Her mind and her body missing sparring with his in the most simple and the most basic of ways.

She had never allowed herself to be known by someone the way she had allowed Grissom to know her.

She had never allowed herself to get attached, but the moment she laid eyes on him all those years ago across the dimmed auditorium she had been captivated.

Fascinated, constantly surprised, stirred, battled, released.

Taught.

Found in him the unexpected.

She had always fought against it, and always lost.

That was really him.

Was he staying, was he visiting, was he… was he…?

He was real.

That was all that mattered.

Feeling her chest swell, feeling her heart wild and frightened.

Feeling her eyes well with tears of emotion so sweet and so completely out of her control.

He was smiling.

Just standing there looking exhausted, like he had travelled from the ends of the earth just to find her.

Just to be with her.

And he had.

What had she ever done to deserve this man?

Her knees swayed, weakening under her.

The tears were ready to break free, she felt her chin tremble as she fought to return his smile against the waving strength of her emotions.

Then his rucksack was tumbling to the ground, and they were moving again.

He was taking steps towards her, his arms outstretched.

His fingers already tensed to grasp her tightly, as tightly as he could.

There was a need in him he had never felt before.

She met him in the middle.

Always equals despite age, despite differing life experience, despite professional divides.

Always equal in minds, in souls, in hearts.

In love.

She was in his arms, and he in hers.

Their mouths colliding, in frantic presses, desperate for contact in whatever way they could get.

He felt dirty, sweaty, disgusting, but she didn't care at all.

He was here; his heart was beating against her breast again, just where it belonged.

His mouth was moving, kissing her lips, her cheek, catching her nose, his beard heating her skin.

Her own lips were duelling frantically too, re-committing to memory the heat of his tongue, the bristle of his beard, the feel of his pulse beneath her lips.

It was far too hot to be this close to another human being, but that didn't stop them.

They clung to each other so tightly, her knees finally giving out as he supported her more forcefully.

Her body trembling in his arms as she was swept away in the onslaught.

The green around them was spinning. The sky above a blur of cloudless blue.

She still wanted him.

How could he ever have doubted her?

He was here.

How could she ever have survived this long without him?

For how long they kissed neither knew or cared.

They rested their weight against one another, propping themselves up as a team.

His tiredness seeping from his bones, draining the energy he had left for kisses, eventually weakening his hold on her even though he had vowed never to let her go again.

And still neither had said a word to one another.

Neither had felt the need too.

Her head had fallen to his shoulder, her eyes closed dreamily as she drank in their closeness.

Occasionally stirring to rub her nose against the rough cotton of his shirt, breathing him in, dirt and sweat and all Grissom.

"I love you."

His voice was gravelly with emotion, but it didn't catch once.

Her head lifted, swaying on her shoulders, leaning back so she could see him.

The tears which had threatened earlier now won out, tumbling triumphantly.

"I love you too," she managed to mouth, the tears tightening her throat and stealing away her voice.

They pressed their foreheads together. Noses brushing, her tears sliding into his beard, onto his shirt.

He captured her cheeks in both of his palms, guiding her back to look at him.

He smiled, finally home, before he laid the lightest kiss to her lips.

Barely a brush of sensitive skin.

But she felt it.

A commitment.

He wasn't leaving.

He was here.

He was staying.

Wherever she wandered so would he.

"Ahhhhmmmmm!"

The person clearing their throat behind Sara made her jump, Grissom's hold on her tightening reflexively.

Slipping her hands from around his back, she brought them to her face, blushing as she rubbed away her happy tears.

Turning towards the tent-like living structure, his new temporary living quarters, which Grissom had barely taken heed of, they found themselves with a small audience.

Four beaming scientists, three men and another female, naughty gleeful expressions on their faces, waited impatiently.

None of them seeming to care that they had successfully witnessed and then ended the most emotionally intimate moment of Sara and Grissom's lives.

Flustered and suddenly awkward, Sara, managed to scramble out their names, James Thomason, Dr. Steven Fielding, Charles Quinn and Evelyn Williams .

Before they were all crowding forward, shaking hands with Grissom, and it took a moment before Sara realised that they knew his name without her having remembered to tell it to them.

Sure she had spoken about a Grissom, probably enough times to drive them all to distraction, but surely finding Sara kissing a man didn't automatically inform them of his identity…

"Wait a minute."

Five guilty faces turned to hers.

"You all knew about this?"

Four smiles grew wider.

"Sara, come on, just think about how much it tortured us NOT being able to tell you…" Charles threw back at her. "You know how Evie is with secrets!"

"Hey!" came her female companions retort, along with a playful shove to his shoulder.

"Actually, someone promised us a product from town of our choice if we kept quiet…"

Grissom's eyes shot guiltily to Steven's to try and silence him, before he braved looking Sara in the eye again.

"Was it worth the surprise?" He asked her softly.

The tears that welled up again unbidden in her eyes told him that it was.

"Come on Dr. Grissom," Evie interrupted, cautiously.

"Gil," Grissom cut in. Smiling down at Sara beside him.

"Gil," Evie corrected herself. "We've some food almost ready and I'm sure one of the guys will show you how to work the shower. Get you some rest. You look like you need it."

Sara could only watch as the three men walked Grissom away from her.

It was wrong that she almost expected him to vanish, right?

The two women were left alone in the clearing with only the monkey.

Sara swayed silently, awash in her still trembling thoughts.

Dazed, but happy, deliriously happy.

"So," Evie nudged, rocking her shoulder into Sara's.

Evie watched as her friends grin spread, her cheeks flushing pinker.

"That was some kiss… I mean I only saw the ending of it, but… wow!"

Sara didn't answer, lost in the heady memory of being dragged into his arms, of the heat of his lips, of the feel of his skin against hers again after so long.

"I've another surprise for you," Evie tempted her with.

That one worked, she received a head tilt and an eyebrow cocked.

Then with Evie's hand on her arm Sara found herself pulled towards the small compartment the two of them shared as a makeshift room.

Dragging the heavy curtain and the mosquito netting back, Evie held out her hands, "Ta da!"

Peering into the shadowy darkness, the small space only dimly lit from behind the shades over the window, Sara just turned and blinked back at her friend more than a little bemused.

With a sigh Evie indicated the beds again.

Both of the cots had been pushed together, and there was something else different.

The small space was clutter free.

"I moved in with the guys," Evie supplied carefully, watching her friends eyes twinkle at the same time as her mouth worked like an embarrassed fish at the suggestion. "They aren't entirely happy about it, on account of the mess I make," she grinned, "but I thought the two of you would like to share…"

Biting her lip shyly, Sara thanked her friend. Recognising the privacy she'd be sacrificing, and even the nights of sleep she might loose, listening to James snoring.

"Plus, here you're a good few drapes away from where I sleep so you can do whatever you like to that man of yours and no one will be able to hear you!"

With that Evie darted away quick sharpish, before Sara could say anything else.

Covering her face with her hands Sara swayed before the bed.

Still hot and flustered, but she couldn't help the grin against her palms which must make her look a complete idiot.

When she had woken up this morning had she hadn't expected any of this.

Hadn't even dreamed that this might happen.

And all of them.

Every single one of them out there had known all along.

Must have known for weeks.

Kept it a secret so he could surprise her.

Her palms slid from her face and curled around herself, squeezing herself tightly to hold back the very uncharacteristic squeal she felt bubbling up inside her searching for vocalisation.

Sara Sidle did not squeal!

"Sara!"

Steven's voice echoed through the camp. He never had quite managed to get used to being quiet in order not to scare away the wildlife they were meant to be studying. It was always a surprise to her that he was such a world renowned Botanist, but his memory and distracted mind were infamous.

"Food!"

The sun was setting as they finally all settled in around the small fire they had built.

They lived and worked by the daylight hours. Climbing into bed shortly after the sun set and dragging themselves out at the break of dawn. For Sara it had fast become a much better ritual than the hours she had once worked for CSI.

It wouldn't be long before they all had to go inside to escape the onslaught of biting, stinging insects and the more worrisome threat of larger wilder animals, attracted to the noise and smells of their camp.

So soon they would have to secure the camp for the night.

But for now they had time.

All of them had full bellies, and tired bodies and at least half a warm beer inside each of them.

Sara and Grissom had been inseparable since he had returned refreshed from a nice cold shower. Both sat side-by-side, keeping the contact between them.

They all talked, science, politics that Grissom could update them on, Sara gesticulating wildly, even though one hand was threaded tightly through Grissom's.

Sara had learnt more of Grissom's scheming, of his plans to get here, of the weeks he had been in contact with these so-called friends of hers.

Yet as each secret was revealed her heart only loved him more.

Her eyes meeting his reflected the flickering flames of the fire and the love he returned to her tenfold.

It was Steven who started the theme of humorous misadventures, but Grissom, the oldest there by only two years, was the one who had the most, although some stories Sara vetoed before even half a sentence escaped him.

The last she vetoed with the quick press of her lips to his, making the others laugh.

And for once it didn't feel strange to be so personal with him in such a setting.

When he used the hand entwined with hers to smother his third yawn Sara suddenly became aware of just how tired he must be.

Of just how far he had come to be with her.

Figuratively, emotionally and physically.

She had noticed that for the last half an hour or so he had been quieter and quieter, but they had all be having such fun. It seemed important for him to get to know the others, even if every cell of her body was humming frantically to be alone with him.

"I think we're going to call it a night." Sara announced.

The longing she had felt all day to be alone with him suddenly intensified, and became too much to fight. Who cared if the others had a very good idea about what they might get up too when they went inside.

This was camp life, very little was sacred when you lived in such close quarters.

Climbing to her feet she helped Grissom after her.

Hand in hand they slipped away into the dark confines of the camp, thoroughly ignoring the faint, but salacious words and whispers of encouragement from the others, which drifted to them.

Taking the already illuminated lamp from the table Sara guided him through the darkness and into the small nearly bare drape room that would now be theirs.

A far cry from the huge bed they had shared back in Vegas, and the comfortable surroundings of their townhouse and all its amenities.

Neither cared.

They were together.

She never thought she would think like that but the last few months of living without such luxuries had shown her just how spoilt and wasteful she had been. Had shown her just how little a person really needed to survive and be healthy and live well.

And now that he was here she had everything she had ever needed.

For a slightly awkward moment they hovered just inside the room, smiling shyly at one another as the heavy drapes fell to conceal them.

It was so strange to be so familiar with someone and yet feel the weight of so much time apart.

Encouraging him to lie down she slipped back out to the main room of the camp to get a bowl of water for them to wash with.

When she returned he was stretched out, stripped down to his boxers, fast asleep, finally beaten by exhaustion.

Lowering the bowl carefully to the floor she never took her eyes from him.

His tired body.

His chest rose and fell heavily, his eyelids flickered.

She had missed him so very much.

And he was here, really here.

Even the sound of the crickets, which had driven her to distraction for the first few nights she had spent in Costa Rica, didn't seem to disturb him. Although he had been the owner of hissing cockroaches.

Poor exhausted man.

Her man.

She smiled stupidly, before she began to undress.

Stripping slowly, she slid the cool of the washcloth over her bared skin, enjoying how the cold stirred her, so contrasting to the still hot, clammy warmth of the room.

Finished she carefully climbed onto the bed beside him.

Turning the lamp down she drew breath and blew it out carefully.

The room was thrown into almost complete darkness, everything lost in a sea of black and shadows, the moonlight couldn't always penetrate the canopy.

In what vague light she had she reached out and caressed her palm over his cheek, tips of her fingers sliding into his hair.

He was still really warm. His body not yet accustomed to the new environment.

Reaching down into the bowl beside her bed she again drew out her washcloth, soaked with cool water and gently soothed it over his heated forehead.

He groaned in pleasure at the sensation.

A lovely gravelly sound she had missed so much.

She hadn't known how much until right then. Her memory of it hadn't done it justice, even if it had helped aid her fantasies in soothing a lot of her tensions.

"Sara?" his voice was timid through the darkness.

"I'm here." She whispered back, sliding the cloth down his cheeks to his throat.

"You're really here?" his voice was growing more delirious with exhaustion.

"Yeah, I'm here. Sleep." She soothed to him.

"But," he protested, softly, "we were expected to keep the others up with our…" he stumbled over the word to use.

"Reunion?" she supplied softly, her voice teasing. "Oh there will be plenty of time for that."

She leant closer, seeking out his lips through the darkness.

"Sleep," she whispered, withdrawing and bringing the cloth with her, letting it fall back into the bowl.

It only took moments before his breathing was slow and rhythmic again, and scant minutes after that she followed.

It was still dark when she next stirred.

It took her a minute to come round, to remember.

Grissom, Grissom was here.

She opened her eyes, but she couldn't see much.

She could feel a whole lot more.

Grissom was leaning over her in the dark, his bigger body sheltering hers, as she lay somewhat sprawled on her stomach. He had hold of both her hands, his fingers entwined with hers, holding them palm down pressed against the bed.

His hot, hot mouth was pressing sensually against her back. Sliding a deliciously wet trail down the centre of her spine. Each bump of a vertebra collecting its own kiss, receiving its own squirm inducing tickle from the scratch of his beard.

Sliding all the way down from the back of her neck to the more than sensitive flesh just above the dimples of her pelvis. Bringing her hands still trapped by his to rest by her hips. Curling her toes with the intensity of it.

His tongue sliding out to flick teasingly over the skin, sending a shiver and stab of longing low and deep.

Oh god she had to be dreaming this.

She arched her back, her shoulders curving towards his touch. Her skin already alight, sweat starting to break out where she was pressed to the slightly rough cotton below her.

He breathed against the wetness he had trailed, raising the first goosebumps she'd had since getting to the rainforest, the heat of his mouth adding a hungry suck before he drew back.

She moaned softly at the loss.

Climbing back up the bed he hovered the heat of his body over hers, their thighs parallel, his bracketing hers.

Nuzzling his nose down by her ear his voice broke through the darkness, deep and male and straight from her fantasies, "I'm awake now."

She heard herself make a faint noise, that was probably closer to a whimper than a valid response, but he took it.

"Are you awake Sara?"

He waited, trailing his lips over the shell of her earlobe, and she felt herself literally throb.

"I believe I owe you a reunion."

She laughed, she couldn't help herself!

Her body shuddering happily under his, making the bed bounce just slightly, pressing her up against his body.

Oh he was certainly awake, and had some how dreamed away those boxer shorts of his too.

She felt his shudder as the curves of her rear brushed against him, heard his gasp and felt it against her neck.

"Turn over," he coaxed.

Taking a breath she complied, finding her hands suddenly freed from his grasp.

Her shoulder brushed against his chest as she turned, her thighs tangling with his as she twisted.

He didn't even give her a moment to settle, as soon as he could he was right back over her, his mouth on hers, but only for a bare moment, then it was sliding lower, gliding over her neck and throat, licking at her pulse, tasting her heat and her sweat and her sleepy musk.

Her hands reached for him, her palms and fingers blindly sliding over what she could reach of him, feeling the sweat gleaming on his skin. His broad chest, his broad back.

Both of them bare and in each other's arms once more.

She couldn't even describe how much she had longed to feel this again.

His mouth eased lower down her body, his nose stroking down between her breasts, then his mouth gliding effortlessly over to capture a nipple.

Her fingers sank helplessly into the flesh of his lower back as he sucked, hard, slow, hungrily, his tongue flicking out to soothe. Her palms rising up his back to tighten in his hair, she growled out a breath as he slid to the other breast, the first kissed he left still throbbing in his wake.

Then before she had a moment to process he was moving again, lower, his sweaty palms burning into the flesh of her hips as he moved down the bed.

She couldn't see him any more and that made him even more like a phantom. Like her poor attention starved body was having the dream of its lifetime.

But no, she was the lucky one.

His palms coasted her hips, then over, down the tops of her thighs, parting them without force, his thumbs easing back up the inside, tickling her flesh with the rough pads of his fingers, her back arching up off the bed, her mouth open in a soundless cry.

He pressed an open mouthed kiss to the dip of her belly button, leaving the skin wet, cooler and tingling.

When she gasped he took advantage of her distraction, lowering his head, and the first swipe of his tongue to her sex lifted her hips with a cry.

They very rarely did this.

No, she very rarely allowed him to.

It made her feel too vulnerable, too wild, but here, here in the complete darkness in the heat and the jungle, here it was blinding.

What did she have left to feel nervous about?

This man had crossed the world to find a home with her.

There were lights flickering wildly in front of her eyes and she was sure they were still open.

He wound her higher and higher, the throbbing becoming a desperate ache as his strong broad finger joined the dance, her hips circling, one of her own fingers finding its way into her mouth just so she could have something to do, she sucked hard. Bitingly hard.

"Please," she whimpered, fingers tugging at his hair, urging him back up level with her.

He moved, reluctantly, her mouth blindly searching out his as he reached her again, able to taste herself, both of them shuddering.

She could feel the beads of sweat gliding down between her breasts, as she lifted herself up to be closer as she kissed him, could feel it behind her knees, at her hairline.

It felt glorious, and animal.

And so did he.

Whilst her lips distracted, and their tongues duelled, her hands explored, stroking down his chest, nails scratching over his nipples, slipping around to squeeze the curve of his behind, and then gently parting her thighs, spreading herself beneath him she reached for him.

He broke the kiss with a harsh gasp of her name, his huge hand slamming down to still hers on him.

She could feel his shudders as he tried to keep control.

But she didn't want control. They didn't want control.

Her hips were squirming, her body rising up to meet his, to taunt his.

"Gil," she whispered, the frantic edge to her voice barely heard above the clouding of arousal.

She felt his arousal brush her leg and heard his hiss and then he was there, pressing gently, her groan spreading out into the air around them.

"Sara," his voice was barely a breath as he sank deeper into the trembling heat of her.

Finally they were one.

And then they were moving, sweat allowing their motions to be hungry and fluid.

The friction deep and overwhelming and sweet.

He lifted her so he could embrace her, their hold on each other as brutally tight as it had been the moment they saw one another again.

Her mouth sought out his as they began to move faster, gasping her pleasure into his as the motions grew, their rhythm found once again.

He guided her hips, tilting them, listening out for the change in the cadence of her breathing.

Their bodies felt molten.

Their hearts slamming hard against their ribcages.

She was already so close, her whole lower body beating in time with her heart, in time with his thrusts.

The world was spinning, she was either going to black out or explode and she was hoping for the later.

The tears were back, streaming down her face, and he was kissing them away.

Then his fingers were sliding between them, searching her out.

And she was howling, and tumbling, and falling and imploding.

Her thighs quaking, her whole body shuddering, holding him so tightly.

So sweet and so strong and it didn't seem to be stopping, she was still hungrily thumping inside, still pulling him deeper, even as she started to sag, exhausted, lolling back to the bed beneath.

Then he was keening too, a low cry that surprised her, his head falling into the crook of her shoulder, his whole body shuddering hard beneath her clasping arms before finally slumping completely.

For a while it was all they could do to just stay like that.

Dipping gently in and out of consciousness.

Shivers and aftershocks still finding delicious sensual pathways through their bodies.

After a little more time he was able to slid himself off her, to slump to the bed next to her on his side.

Their bodies were still hot, the sweat not even cooling on their skin in the heavily scented humidity of their room.

"Do you think we gave them enough of a show?" he whispered, finally finding his voice.

Gently stroking away the strands of her hair that clung to her forehead.

But she was already fast asleep.

A sweet sated smile on her beautiful face.

It was light by the time they stirred awake to face the day.

Really light, like they had missed sunrise by several hours.

His motions woke her, or hers woke him.

It didn't really matter.

Both of them were blinking rapidly at the newness of it all.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," she whispered back and she smiled. That lovely beaming smile which was wonderfully contagious. "Welcome home."


End file.
